Category: nature

Broken Veins

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What road did I drive down again?
Path of dusty broken veins
Weed choked by falling road dust
Dry season on two wheels
And a gooseneck straddling dotted lines
About a ribbon I’ve tied across my finger
To remember a mannequin I fell in love with.

Holy I went left!
I took my squirrels medium rare
And left my lover there
Amongst rocks as ocean’s edge
To watch whatever growing storm
Should scarcely hide away her tears.

In my pack I tried to hold
Every essential piece of gold
I locked it up, taped it down,
Bound it to my back with straps
That crossed my chest and held my gear
As wind swept across my beard
Reminding me though I may fly
I’m still so gnarled and twined
As river’s edge a weeping willow
Set about my fate.

Slowly into Tea

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I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.

So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.

Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.

So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.

Sound/Vision

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Who are you?
What is your sound/vision?
What guides your call?

Deep gulps of morning coffee
Flickering sounds
An empty wall
With little splash marks
Years of service gone by.

This pen fades
The more I write,
Like fallen leaves
Into enrichened soil
Rhythms have lost my voice
Telling me of better days.

One

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One
Oneness
The Way
A single heart
Forest’s path is empty
Echo is just you
Thoughts are all your own
Beyond reason.. sure
And in good nature, hopefully.

One
Sun
Moon
Earth
One

One
Has distant friends
And one multiplied by anything
Becomes anything
One has its beginning
A small seed
A drop of rain
A heart beat
A tongue

One’s voice falls silent
One’s sight grows distant
One’s touch is careful
One’s feelings are forever lost
In a sea of comfort in one’s own
So one grows tired
This single heart
So one’s thought may stop
Even just for a divine pause
To find one’s way
Again
One

Spring Heart

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Spring around the corner
Spreading all it’s heartfelt warmth
Reminds me of your touched embrace
Glowing readily, evermore.
It reminds me of a melting snowdrift
One drop at a time
Collecting a little puddle of water
Soon to be overflowing
Slowly trickling down
Small valleys that gather more,
Filling up so quickly
Like the coming season nearer
And my heart when you are here.

I’m Gone

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I’m gone
It has taken me a while
But I sit here
Gone
Watching the elongating
Aloe vera leaves
Reach
So far from the road
That once brought me here.

I’m gone
My path long overwritten
Slight smile
Of downtrodden blades
And the omnipresent moss
Setting it’s tangles
Deeper than I can ever watch.

I’m gone
Noises from the party
Barely audible
Where my anxiety levels
Scream
An inability to be present
Sits waiting in blades of grass
I walk amongst alone.

Numbing

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Snow flies
And so shall I fly:
Stable but absent;
Nose towards sky.

White tiger
Plays softly nearby
Pine tree
Getting decorated.

I gift each breath
The bellow of my chest;
Abdomen to rumbling,
Seated like stump.

I seek nothing
And return to nowhere.
My wings of a vision
Leave me numbing home.

Numbing by Ned Tobin

At Home

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There’s a mountain of crows
Crawling about my mind.
Distant snowy peaks
Tall, looming firs
And the faint, eerie howl
Of the wind
Settling through furry boughs.

I dont want comfort anymore
I want slow, agonizing pain
Of cold feet and biting breath.
Let darkness fill my voids
With only the fire
Inside my eyes
Feeding the warmth.

Here, I will stack wood
Against stained boards
Of an ancient vision;
Architectures ancestor
Where notches have been worn
By our rattling wind
That kept the night
Hallowed at home.